


haunt the halls of where we could have lived

by ghostparty



Category: 999: Nine Hours Nine Persons Nine Doors - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M, Spoilers, alternate scene/missing scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 19:25:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2359511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostparty/pseuds/ghostparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The apocalypse of Aoi's happiness had begun, if he had even had it in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	haunt the halls of where we could have lived

**Author's Note:**

> gotta love that first nonary game am I right ladies
> 
> also this is my first published fic and I wrote it while mildly sleep deprived so I apologize in advance

The door closed, and it all came crashing down.

His worst nightmares danced between the line of dreams and reality, shuffling on both sides in frantic hesitation. Fear crawled up his throat like some twisted version of itsy bitsy spider, the events unfolding into a warped children's fairytale. The first few moments seemed to last a lifetime, and he felt that in these century-long minutes he was going mad, trying to piece his broken thoughts together in the same way Victor Frankenstein created his monster. Her screams, her—

Her screams wouldn't stop.

Aoi knew what was happening behind that door, knew that there was no chance of preventing it whatsoever. Even so, his fists still pounded against metal as if they were created for that purpose, his strangled pleas not even reaching his own ears. The cries of him and his companions weaved and harmonized into something that seemed to be composed by death itself, a horrible symphony that bumped into the ceiling in the same way their hands slapped on cold metal. And in one dizzying second of comprehension, he realized he almost took a sort of sick comfort in his sister's wailing, because _oh god if she's screaming at least that means she's still alive, at least she's still there—_

All sounds from the other side of the door abruptly silenced.

The apocalypse of Aoi's happiness had begun, if he had even had it in the first place. His hands shook, shook, shook and his breath st-st-stuttered and all clear thoughts fell onto his consciousness like static, the distraught faces of the two people next to him blurred into a watercolor painting gone wrong. The fact that his precious baby sister was _gone_ hit him like a freight train a thousand times over. He didn't even realize that the door had opened until the groan and strain of metal halted. He stumbled into the vast expanse of the incinerator, barely making it to the middle before his knees buckled under him. If it had been any other time, he would have scowled at his own weakness.

In the back of his mind, he recalled some pointless lecture his science teacher had given a couple days prior (had they really only been in this wretched place for nine hours?). He remembered the doodles he was drawing in his notebook, the what-used-to-be mint flavored gum that he coaxed out of the girl sitting next to him resting in the back of his mouth, the overall normality of the situation. His teacher had been lecturing about carbon, explaining that it made up a fair amount of the human body, about eighteen percent. And now, as the useless memory flickered and faded away, the most important pile of carbon in the whole fucking universe was sitting in front of him, his only family member reduced to ashes charred into the floor.

As if he hadn't screamed enough in one day, a hoarse cry tore from his throat, sounding akin to a wounded animal. He was overflowing with pain; it poured out of him through his eyes and nose and mouth. What was he even going to do? The reason he got up in the morning had vanished, the reason he worked a part-time job after school and frequently pulled out money from his old "college fund" so he could afford some shitty apartment wasn't there anymore. He had nothing and no one; he was just a shell of who he should have been with mere spider's thread holding him together, a ghost with a beating heart.

The thought of coming home after a long and most likely unpleasant day to an empty living room terrified him like the child he was.

From behind him, he felt the soft, uncertain touch of a hand on his back. A figure kneeled beside him, and a quick glance to the side revealed that it was that blind boy he had shared leadership with throughout the game, the one who had been a constant and reassuring presence to everyone for all nine hours. ( _Every one of you has a brother or a sister in Building Q with Clover. For their sake, we have to survive. We have to get off this ship. Do you understand?_ ).

To him it felt like useless information now, but the name "Light" surfaced in his head. (Aoi had almost snorted when he first heard it; he thought it was ironic that the boy possessed the same name as something he would most definitely never see in the rest of his lifetime).

He knew the hand on his back was meant to be comforting, but in that moment it felt scalding.

Despite this, he felt like his spine had been ripped completely out, and fell limp against Light like a marionette with its strings cut. For once, he wasn't thinking about how laughable he must seem, curled up and crying against the other teenager, wasn't thinking about how he was going to pay this month's rent or _goddamnit I can't solve this stupid puzzle! Hey guys, come give me a hand with this one! Hurry!_

Light stroked his back gently and ran his hand through the other boy's hair. He briefly patted up his neck, searching for his face, before he wiped a stray tear from Aoi's cheek. For a moment, he imagined his own sister in Akane's place, her soft hair singed at the ends and her cries bouncing off the walls, and in a rush of pity pulled Aoi even closer to his chest.

The pair stayed like that for a long while, unmoving. Light couldn't see the pale, melancholy face of the other boy, but he could certainly feel the earthquake that shook his body and the rain of his tears, could hear the thunder of his cries clawing at his sensitive ears. How strange, he thought, that they would end up in a situation like this, the only thing connecting them being the chains of one man's sick experiment.

In the short amount of time the group had been aboard the ship, Light had often wondered what everyone's lives would be like if this day had never happened at all, if Cradle Pharmaceutical had been kept in a cage instead of let loose on innocent children, fangs bared and claws sharp. Would he have already given Clover her birthday present? Would they be sitting in the field where he had found her gift, the little girl enthusiastically explaining the green color of the small plants to him? Would Aoi be making dinner with his sister instead of having the world crash down on his shoulders? God, all of them could have _lived_ , but now Light didn't even know if they would be granted that luxury.

Eventually, Aoi's tears ran dry and his voice grew weak and gave out. He stayed slumped against Light for support, Light's arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders, simply because he didn't think he had the strength to sit up. Aoi realized with a twinge of loneliness that this was the first time anyone but Akane had embraced him, ever. _What a pathetic way to live_ , he thought dully.

"Hey kids, I think it's about time we started heading out," a voice said, somewhat cautiously, behind them. Aoi turned his head over his shoulder. Oh, right. That unnamed detective had shown up at just the right time, and in an act of gracious selflessness, saved everyone ( ~~almost everyone~~ ). From what he could see, the detective's face looked worn and tired, and his broad shoulders were slumped drastically, like a mountain that had begun crumbling.

The detective walked over to the two teenagers and offered a hand to both of them. They took them gratefully, Aoi barely having the strength or will to get up even with assistance. The large man led the way out the looming metal entryway, and opened another door that revealed a winding spiral staircase. Aoi linked the blind boy's fingers with his own and squeezed tightly, not for comfort, oh no; he simply aimed to guide him to the stairs, that was all. Light turned his head in Aoi's direction with a forlorn smile and squeezed back.

The group began their ascent up the staircase; the path to the gates of heaven, the yellow brick road that led to the key that would unlock their shackles. That fact hit Aoi like a ton of bricks when his foot met the first step.

In a few moments, he would be free.

Free to roam a world that had burst up into flames.


End file.
